


Live, Laugh, Love

by connorssock



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, Connor gets a job, Connor is a funeral director, Domestic Fluff, M/M, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 01:59:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17173682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorssock/pseuds/connorssock
Summary: Connor wanted to experience the full range of human emotions, not just the positives he's found with Hank. So he gets a job as an assistant funeral director while continuing his relationship with Hank through the Christmas festivities.





	Live, Laugh, Love

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas @kannter, hopefully this fulfils your second prompt: after-game story of Hank and Connor, Connor achieving a small time job (baker/florist/dog walker) and exploring domestic life between the two of them.

The door shut softly behind Connor and he stamped the last of the snow off his boots on the small welcome mat. Across the house, he could see Hank in the kitchen as he battled a roll of gift wrap on the table.

“You’re early,” Hank called and Connor smiled.

“The last appointment rescheduled for tomorrow. They couldn’t face coming in today.”

“Can’t blame them.”

Connor shrugged out of his large overcoat and hung it up alongside his crisp black suit. Sumo took that moment to trot over and sniff his knees.

“We’ve talked about this, you don’t slobber on my work trousers,” he warned the dog who whined at him and leaned a shoulder into his legs instead. At least fur was easier to get off clothes than dog drool. With a resigned sigh, Connor obediently leaned down to give Sumo his greeting pat.

Life after the revolution had been turbulent to say the least. Hank had been given a suspension following the altercation with Perkins while Connor struggled to find his place within Jericho. In the end, Connor had softly admitted over a lunch break that he couldn’t seem to fit in anywhere. The androids in Jericho were still wary of him, unforgiving of his actions while still a machine yet humanity wasn’t ready to accept androids as equals just yet.

In the end, Connor stayed with Hank, carved out a little corner of the world that was just his, or rather, theirs. Eventually, Hank returned to work and Connor was left home alone. Playing house wasn’t what he’d been programmed for but it made him happy. It was enough to keep him occupied. The house was spotless, Sumo was happier than ever as he was fed, brushed, walked and trained daily. It wasn’t until Connor and Hank were curled up on the sofa and watching a film that it occurred to Connor that something was missing from his life.

“Hank?” he asked tentatively once the credits had rolled.

“Yeah?”

“I think I want a job.”

It had been easier to say the words then to actually follow through with it. A lot of places were reluctant to hire androids even as the laws were slowly filtering through. Plus, Connor had realised he wanted a very specific job that wasn’t based around what he did, but rather what he felt.

That was something he’d figured out while watching TV with Hank. Whatever film it had been, Connor could understand the emotions behind most of the scenes. He felt happy when the characters smiled or something good had happened. Sadness washed through him when the original plan hadn’t worked out and the excitement along with anxiety when they hatched a secondary idea. Yet, when there was loss, Connor drew a blank. It was a gaping hole in his emotional experiences and one that he wanted to fill, he wanted to understand all aspects of humanity, not just the positives he’d found next to Hank.

“Good day?” Hank asked him and drew Connor back into the present with a soft peck to his cheek.

“We finally buried Mrs. Brown,” Connor nodded.

He’d never expected Hank to understand why he became an assistant funeral director. If he’d wanted to, he could have become a funeral director straight away, downloaded the relevant programs and he’d have been good to go. Yet the prospect of working towards a goal drew him in far too much. It had been six months since he’d taken the job and slowly but surely he was working through his qualifications like anybody else would.

“That’s good,” Hank patted him on the shoulder and turned away, heading back to the table where a box was half wrapped. The paper was creased a couple of times already from failed attempts, the tag on the table was already scruffily written, addressed to Connor. A smaller, messier gift was on the chair, poorly wrapped to make it look like a cracker with a tag that designated it as Sumo’s.

“No scanning!”

Connor laughed at the idea, he’d grown quite fond of surprises and wouldn’t ever dream of ruining Hank’s gift by prying into the contents of the box. Knowing Hank, it was probably a box within a box within a box at least. He had seemed quite tickled by the idea when they came across it one evening on a random video binge.

“I do so hope it’s socks,” Connor teased. “Then we could match!”

“If you got me socks for Christmas then you’re sleeping on the couch for a month,” Hank retorted, “I told you already, old men get plastic fish to mount on walls. They’re even better if they’re motion detecting ones that sing and wiggle when you walk past.”

“You’ll get that next year, I’m not sure you’re old enough for that just yet.”

Connor disappeared into the bedroom to get changed. People still marvelled at his job choice. Not many people wanted their loved ones to be buried by an android. But android funerals were also on the rise, beloved companions and family members who for some reason no longer amongst the living. Sometimes those were the hardest to cope with, androids were meant to live for all but forever. To have lost someone suddenly always pulled at Connor’s heart.

The first funeral he’d helped with had been sad but fairly anticlimactic. An elderly gentleman who had been surrounded by his loved ones when he’d passed. It was a heartfelt send off, filled with many fond memories and a family who cherished the man who had passed. That day, Connor had come home and given Hank a firm hug, grateful to have the man with him. While he didn’t fully understand grief just yet, the inkling of emotions were there.

He truly came to feel grief a month into his new job. It wasn’t anything exceptional. A woman in her early sixties had passed away and her android helper had come in to arrange all the funeral details. Connor had followed through on all the wishes, made the arrangements as requested. On the day, it was the pallbearers and Connor at the cemetery, nobody else came to bid goodbye to the woman.

When he got home, Connor had all but bowled Hank over, emotions all over the place. He clung to his partner without words. No language could express how he felt but the solace he found in Hank was enough to ride out the tidal wave until it settled into something a little less overwhelming.

They never spoke of that incident beyond the first time Connor opened up about it. Neither of them wanted to admit that they were both thinking about Hank and how that could easily have been him not too long ago.

Each time Connor got home though, Hank always pressed a kiss to his cheek and asked him about his day. In turn, Connor would ask about the DPD and the cases Hank was working on. They made things work. The nights Hank was home first, he’d get the food going, put on some music and puttered around the house. If Connor was back, he’d take Sumo for a walk, put together a healthy meal he’d sneak tastes of and tidy up a little.

By a small stroke of luck, Hank had Christmas day off. They’d spent the morning lazing around in bed, Sumo by their feet. There was no rush to get out of bed and Connor spent a happy hour tracing lazy patterns over Hank’s chest while the man dozed under his touch. Eventually they stumbled into the kitchen and together they admired the little tree they’d decorated. Underneath it sat four parcels, one large one labelled Connor, one for Sumo and two very precisely wrapped ones for Hank.

“Open the small one first,” Connor urged as they sat down.

They’d already helped Sumo open his newest tuggy toy and it was just their own ones left. Carefully, Hank peeled the tape away from the wrapping of the small bundle. It fit in his fist and was squidgy. Suspiciously, he eyed Connor who worked hard to keep his smile in check. The wrapping fell away to reveal a balled up pair of warm, fluffy socks. They bounced off Connor’s head even as he laughed and Hank was hard pressed not to join in.

“Fine, you open your now,” Hank huffed, arms crossed over his chest in mock offence.

Carefully, Connor pulled the large box towards himself. It felt suspiciously light. As he’d suspected, inside the box was another box. And another, followed by a smaller one still. He was opening his seventh box when he finally found something that wasn’t cardboard.

“Socks?” he asked, entertained yet unimpressed by the rolled up swathe of black fabric.

It felt heavier than expected though and at Hank’s urging he unrolled the offending item. Another box revealed itself, this one black and velvety.

“Open in,” Hank’s voice was close to his ear as he knelt behind Connor on the floor.

The lid popped open and Connor stared at the ring inside the box. He turned to Hank who was on one knee and smiling with hope.

“Well? What do you think?” he asked.

“I rather think you should ask me. I might assume the wrong thing,” Connor replied but ducked in for a quick kiss as he passed the open box to Hank.

“Connor,” Hank smiled and held the open box to face him, “will you marry me?”


End file.
